Cassie was shocked. “But where do they sleep? Where do they find food?”
“There are three monasteries along the trail for shelter. About a day apart,” Rabten informed her. “But since the monasteries can’t house more than a handful of people, most of the pilgrims bring their own food and water. A lot of them bring their own tents too. That’s why they have pack animals. Ordinarily, the walk takes about three days—”
“—but if you want to score extra karma points,” his brother cut in, “then you do the walk in one day. That would take about fifteen hours. Of course, you’d win the karmic grand prize by doing it like that lady on the ground over there.”
“Speaking of karma,” Griffin piped up. “I’ve heard this pilgrimage is supposed to lighten one’s cosmic debt considerably.”
The twins nodded.
“That’s right,” Rabten concurred. “They say one trip around the mountain wipes away the bad karma from a person’s current life.”
“And supposedly,” his brother added, “108 revolutions will take you out of the loop of reincarnation completely.”
“You forgot about the lake,” Rabten murmured to his brother.
“Oh, right,” Rinchen said. “Another Get Out of Jail Free card is to walk the path and then take a bath in Lake Manasarovar. That water’s cold, even in the middle of summer, and I do mean cold. Maybe hypothermia is the ultimate path to salvation. Who knows?” He shrugged expressively.
Winded by the steep climb, they all paused to catch their breaths.
Cassie, straining for air, said, “Guys, I don’t know how we’re going to climb to the top of the peak if we’re already gasping at this stage. How high up are we?”
“Darchen is about fifteen thousand feet above sea level—”
“—and the summit of Kailash is over twenty thousand feet.”
“Not to mention the diameter,” Griffin remarked. “Searching a mountain of this size is a daunting task, even without the risk of altitude sickness.”
“Nobody is allowed to climb the peak. It’s considered a sacrilege,” Rabten informed them.
Cassie and Griffin exchanged a panicked look.
“But what if the artifact’s in a cave at the very top?” Cassie objected. “How are we supposed to get to it?”
“Don’t worry. We won’t have to climb that high.” Rinchen grinned.
The pythia and the scrivener peered at him suspiciously.
“I think the thin air must be making you loopy too,” the pythia murmured.
“No, no.” Rabten rushed to his brother’s defense. “He means that we think we know where your artifact might be.”
“It’s up pretty high but not at the very top.”
“We’ve been to the spot before, but we didn’t make the connection that it was an Arkana artifact until we got this assignment.”
“There’s something odd in Saptarishi Cave.”
“Saptarishi Cave?” Cassie repeated.
“Yeah, it’s a holy shrine at the base of the peak. Around nineteen thousand feet up,” Rinchen said.
“Traditionally, pilgrims don’t consider themselves worthy to enter the shrine until they’ve made thirteen circuits around the base of the mountain.”
“Thirteen!” Cassie exclaimed in disbelief. “I don’t think so!”
“It’s OK,” Rabten reassured her. “With all the Western tourists traipsing through this area nowadays, nobody insists on following that custom.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Griffin murmured.
“Saptarishi means ‘seven sages,’” Rabten continued. “They’re very famous wise men in Hindu mythology. Supposedly they were married to these seven sisters—”
“Hold on.” Griffin cut him off. “Seven sisters, did you say?”
“Uh huh.”
Cassie and Griffin found themselves smiling.
“Oh boy,” the pythia said. “Jackpot!”
“What did we say?” Rabten asked helplessly.
“The seven sisters are a clear reference to the Pleiades,” Griffin answered. “The last artifact we retrieved was decorated with jewels representing the seven sisters and the clue inscribed on it referred to the constellation as well. Your Saptarishi Cave proves that we’re on the right track.”
“The cave is on the south face of the mountain.” Rabten pointed to a spot high above them.
“It’s about a seven-mile hike from Darchen to Saptarishi, and it’s a steep climb, so it’s going to take three hours or so to get there.”
Despite the distance and the thin air, Cassie and Griffin began walking with far more energy than either one had demonstrated that morning.
The scrivener scowled in concentration.
Noticing his expression, Cassie asked, “What?”
“Now that I think of it, I do recall reading some facts about the Pleiades as they relate to Hindu beliefs. Before the Aryan incursion into this region, the seven sisters were seven mythological priestesses who judged the merit of human souls. Alcyone, the most prominent star in the cluster, was even identified with the pre-Hindu mother goddess of creation. It’s quite likely that before Saptarishi Cave was claimed by the seven sages, it belonged to the seven sisters. Of course, once the overlords arrived in the area, they tinkered with its mythology as others of their kind have done the world over.”
“Makes sense,” Cassie remarked archly. “If you’re the new god in town what better way to improve your status than to hook up with the local goddess and become half of a power couple.”
“Marriage was the typical method by which overlord gods took control,” Griffin continued. “All the ancient goddesses of the region became consorts of overlord gods, and the same fate awaited the Pleiades. The sisters were married off to the Seven Sages, but their Sanskrit name bears a hint as to their pre-Hindu mythological function. They are called the Krittika. The name translates as ‘the cutters’ which hearkens back to their role as judges of human souls. They were the Himalayan equivalent of the Fates in Greece who also predated Zeus and the Olympians. The Fates spun out a person’s destiny and cut the thread of life when that destiny had been fulfilled.”
The scrivener paused, out of breath once more.
“Griffin, I think you better stop talking so much,” Cassie advised. “Not that it isn’t interesting, but you need to conserve the air in your lungs.”
He nodded between gasps, too winded to reply.
They all looked upward at the white summit of the holy mountain still miles above them.
It was going to be a long day.
***
Several hours later, the weary quartet approached the cave entrance. Some of the pilgrims around them were using ropes which their guides had anchored to the rocks above. The incline was steep, but the Arkana group opted to scrabble up the last bit of mountainside without any additional support. This was a perilous maneuver since they practically had to crawl on all fours over loose granite. The gravel was slippery enough that they risked sliding backward several hundred feet if they weren’t careful. Cassie made it a point not to look over her shoulder.
Fortunately, the cave itself offered solid footing. When they reached the entrance, they were able to straighten up and relax. Saptarishi Cave wasn’t so much a cave as a fissure in the mountainside—a stone ledge sheltered by a prominent overhang of solid rock. A gap of several feet separated the roof from the floor of the cave so that anyone inside could look out and view the scenery miles below. Along the outer wall between the floor of the fissure and the stone ceiling, someone had erected a series of huge man-made pedestals. Each of these pedestals held a dome-shaped structure and on top of each one was a golden spire that looked like a Christmas tree topper.
Rabten seemed to read Cassie’s unspoken question. “Those are the golden chortens,” he said. “There were originally thirteen and the shrine is still sometimes called the ‘Cave of the Thirteen Golden Chortens.’ There are more than thirteen her
e now though.”
“What’s a chorten?”
“It’s a Tibetan version of a stupa. Each one of those chortens houses the remains of a Buddhist saint.”
“Pretty colorful cave,” Cassie remarked, pointing to bright pieces of cloth strung from one golden spire to the next as well as what looked like small colorful pennants with writing on them.
“Those are prayer flags,” Rabten continued. “People attach them to the chortens hoping their prayers will be answered. Supposedly, the wind releases the prayers written on the flags into the atmosphere. That’s more of a Buddhist custom than a Hindu one.”
The cave itself was narrow, no more than ten feet wide and much narrower than that in places. Chortens had been erected all the way from the entrance to the point where the fissure rejoined the mountainside. Beyond that lay a sheer vertical wall of rock.
Cassie and Griffin silently followed the twins about halfway through the cave where the two men stopped abruptly.
Rinchen smiled and pointed to something on the back wall slightly above eye level. “Is this what you were looking for?”
Griffin rubbed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he saw. “It would appear that finding an artifact hidden in a holy mountain isn’t going to prove that difficult after all.”
Cassie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Shortest relic hunt ever!”
Chapter 40—Triple Play
The Arkana group stood clustered together staring at a spot on the back wall of Saptarishi Cave. The familiar lily symbol was carved into the rock, but it was the object displayed in a glass-covered niche below it that caused them all consternation.
“It is a magnificent sight, isn’t it?”
They turned in surprise. An Indian man, obviously on pilgrimage, had come up beside them to admire the artifact.
The newcomer continued. “It was only discovered a few decades ago. The story is told of a pilgrim from my country who came to this spot to pray. He was so overcome to be in the dwelling place of the Almighty that he pressed his forehead against the rock and wept with joy. The stone crumbled beneath his touch. When it fell away, this miraculous gift was revealed.”
“So, you think this was a present from your god?” Cassie asked suspiciously.
Griffin tugged at her coat sleeve and shook his head slightly. Obviously, he didn’t want her skeptical attitude to antagonize their informant.
“What else could it be?” The Indian man appeared baffled by the question. “Shiva is often pictured in this way. In a matter of days, a shrine was built around this precious relic. Of course, it had to be covered with glass. It was too fragile to withstand the harsh climate on the mountaintop.”
“That’s very interesting,” Griffin said encouragingly. “Thank you for telling us.”
The pilgrim nodded and walked off toward the cave entrance, chanting a Hindu prayer as he went.
The scrivener nudged the group to the opposite end where the fissure terminated. About a dozen people were milling around the chortens, but none seemed interested in going all the way to the back of the cave. The Arkana group stood in a little circle debating what to do next.
“Well, this sure complicates things,” Cassie said.
“Indeed,” Griffin agreed.
“Of all places for the Minoans to pick.” The pythia shook her head in perplexity. “Why here?”
“I’m sure it was ideal in 1000 BCE,” the scrivener countered. “That was centuries before the Hindus, Buddhists, and Jainists had made any incursions into Tibet. When the Minoans arrived, this cave was the sacred abode of a sky goddess, and she didn’t have to share it with an overlord god. People only came here infrequently to perform religious rites. It was isolated and therefore perfect.”
“Guess the Minoans had no way of knowing this mountain would end up becoming the Asian equivalent of Vatican City.” Cassie sighed.
“Not only that,” Griffin added. “By a perverse bit of bad luck, the shape of the artifact placed in this cave happens to correlate with the iconography of the Lord Shiva.”
“It is one of Shiva’s most well-known symbols,” Rinchen agreed.
The pythia gave an unexpected chuckle. “I’m taking a beat to process the irony. Our obscure little Minoan artifact somehow morphed into the Hindu Shroud of Turin, and now we have to figure out a way to boost it without anybody noticing.”
“We could come back at night,” Rabten suggested. “That piece of glass covering the niche is only held in place by a metal frame.”
“All we need is a couple of screwdrivers and a flashlight,” his brother offered.
“I’m afraid we have a bigger problem than merely removing the artifact,” Griffin observed.
When the twins treated him to a puzzled look, Cassie elaborated. “We need to replace the artifact with a replica right away. Since people visit this place all the time, we can’t take the original out of the case to get it copied. That sort of thing might get noticed.”
The twins seemed nonplussed. “We forgot about that,” Rinchen admitted.
Griffin reached into his backpack. “I don’t know what possessed me to bring a camera along on this trip, but I’m certainly glad I did.”
He walked back to the glass-covered niche and began taking pictures of the artifact from every possible angle. He took close-up shots of the inscriptions carved into the front of the relic as well. “Let’s hope there aren’t any glyphs carved on the back,” he murmured.
“Don’t even think that!” Cassie exclaimed in alarm.
“I don’t suppose any of you has brought a tape measure?” he asked the group in general.
“Oh, I might.” Rabten volunteered. He searched his backpack and obligingly produced one.
“Brilliant!” Griffin said approvingly. “Now someone keep watch, please. It’s one thing for tourists to photograph this relic. It’s quite another for us to measure its dimensions. That might appear suspicious to the casual observer.”
His three companions formed a wall blocking the path of any stray pilgrim who might want to venture farther into the cave.
“All clear,” Cassie mumbled over her shoulder.
Furtively glancing toward the entrance, Griffin produced a notebook and quickly copied the dimensions of the piece. “I’ll have to estimate the depth,” he murmured half to himself. After several more minutes, he said, “I’m finished.”
His companions relaxed their vigilance. They clustered once again in front of the shrine.
“How are we supposed to get this thing copied? We’re a thousand miles from nowhere.” Cassie tried to keep a despairing note out of her voice.
“We can get it done for you,” Rabten suggested brightly.
Cassie and Griffin stared at him skeptically.
“We’ve got contacts in Lhasa who could do the work. It’s not the first time we’ve had to handle artifact restoration in this part of the world,” Rinchen explained.
“Lhasa is six hundred miles away,” the pythia objected.
“We’re already acclimatized. We can fly. Granted, the nearest airport is a two-hundred-mile drive, but we’ve got the Land Rover. There are only two flights per week, but I know for a fact there’s a plane leaving tomorrow,” Rabten said.
“We can take your photos and the dimensions and get a copy made. It shouldn’t take more than a week for us to get back here with it.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion.” Griffin smiled with relief. “In the meantime, Cassie and I will stay in contact with Home Office, so we’ll know when the Nephilim are on their way. Thank goddess, Darchen actually has phone and internet connections. Otherwise, we couldn’t manage this operation at all.”
“Uh, guys. There’s just one hitch,” Cassie said.
Her companions stared at her blankly.
“We don’t need one copy,” she reminded them. “We need two. The first one is for the Nephilim to steal. Then we need to put a second copy back in the shr
ine, so nobody knows there’s been a theft of the original.”
“You’re right, of course,” Griffin agreed. “But this will constitute quite a challenge to orchestrate since the substitutions will need to be made almost simultaneously. We’ll have to conceal ourselves here in the cave during the time the Nephilim are stealing the artifact. As soon as they leave, we’ll have to place the second copy, so none of the pilgrims are treated to the sight of an empty shrine the following morning.”
Cassie shuddered. “I’m flashing back to the last time we were stuck in a cave with those guys.” She eyed Griffin. “It didn’t turn out so well for you.”
“Yes, I have the scar as a memento,” he patted his abdomen ruefully. “Still, it’s our only option.”
“I guess so,” the pythia conceded. “Remind me to carry an extra stun gun when we make the switch, just in case things get dicey.”
“Oh, I’m sure everything will go smoothly this time.” Griffin gave an unconvincing smile in an attempt to reassure her.
“Yeah, that’ll happen.”
Chapter 41—Native Son
“Well, that was more fun than a barrel full of cobras,” Hunt remarked sarcastically.
Daniel and the cowboy passed through the revolving doors of their Mumbai hotel. The air-conditioned lobby provided welcome relief from the tropical heat and humidity outdoors.
The pair had spent the day fruitlessly searching Elephanta Island for a trace of the Minoan lily symbol. Daniel found himself overwhelmed not only by the dizzying array of artwork in the caves but by the perplexing nature of the Indian subcontinent itself. It was unlike anything he’d experienced in his earlier travels. The intricacies of the Hindu religion. The colorful saris and the complex spice palate of the food. The teeming streets of Mumbai—a paradoxical combination of modern technology and ancient mysticism. He found it all vaguely intimidating but strangely attractive at the same time. Above all else, he found the culture profoundly confusing. Not for the first time, he whispered a silent prayer of gratitude that Chris was only a phone call away to help him navigate this exotic land. Without his friend’s help, he doubted he would ever find his lily-shaped needle in this mandala-patterned haystack.
Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 23
